They fell out of the flimsy envelope
with its exotic triangular stamps -
small square snapshots of her teacher son
posed on ruins, under palm trees, glass in hand.
Libya was unexpected, but Arabs, she supposed,
had money, could pay a good wage.
More of an adventure, more up his street
than a Croydon comprehensive.
Every month or so came more photos of palm trees
a few scribbled words, short on facts.
Then phone-calls from strangers. Did she have
his address? Some dropped hints about cash.
After Christmas, his mother, thumbing through photos
to make up for getting no card,
for no word having come for a while,
found them yellowing, blurring,
tanned face fading, disappearing
into palm trees, ruins, sand.
Polaroid Pictures by Jennie Osborne | Garden Lavender Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
$20.00Price
